


Shelter from the Storm

by wllgardners



Category: The Resident (TV 2018)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wllgardners/pseuds/wllgardners
Summary: He was there for her the whole time she was sick.
Relationships: Randolph Bell/Kit Voss
Comments: 39
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yes, it's me again. i just could not get this idea out of my mind since watching the season 4 premiere (if you haven't yet, there are spoilers in this!!) 
> 
> the idea for this is a little two parter.

_April, 2020._

From across the protective glass, Bell apprehensively watched as Kit struggled to breathe in her sleep. Seemed as if the oxygen mask was no longer enough to keep her sats at a proper rate, which meant that the virus had likely reached her lungs by that point. In fact, since she was admitted a couple of days ago, her condition had only worsened.

Medical school had not prepared him to deal with the feelings of helplessness this illness had forced him to experience. He recalled her words ever so often; they were built to cut things open and fix them, nothing that had any concrete significance in the fighting of this particular battle. Such hopeless thoughts were only aggravated by the fact that, from all people, it was her lying on that cold bed by herself. It was her life at stake, and he so desperately wished he could change that.

Not that the prospect of losing any other colleague was not equally stressful. However, there was no denying that when it came to Kit, each and every one of his emotions was amplified on an exponential level.

_Nothing_ was more important than her.

His somber thoughts and inner fears served as a powerful distraction in the midst of the chaos that had taken over Chastain. Hallways were packed with hospital workers running to all directions, doing their best to bring any sort of comfort and care to anguished patients. Covid was by no means a death sentence, but it was a painful reminder of the fragility of human life.

“You shouldn’t go in there anymore,” the raspy voice of a younger doctor caught his attention, though it was not enough to make him peel his eyes off the glass. Conrad now stood by his side.

“Not you, too,” the surgeon sighed. Over the course of the last day, Bell had heard this a thousand times. Yet, he stood firm in his decision, he was not going anywhere. The others might as well get used to it.

“I’m afraid that’s a direct order from Kim.”

The older man shot daggers at his fellow worker. “What?”

“I’m just the messenger,” Conrad sounded apologetic. “But he has a point. This is Covid, we shouldn’t be taking any more risks than necessary. And you going into that room thirty times a day unfortunately falls under that category.”

“How can I leave her there?” Bell’s gaze drifted back to the heartbreaking scene depicted right before them. It took a lot of restraint to not let himself fall to pieces at the situation. “She’s alone in there. Scared–”

“And the last thing she wants is for you to be sick too,” the Chief Resident carefully measured his words before proceeding. “Kit’s on board with this, you know?”

A knot formed on his throat, preventing Bell from speaking any further. Instead, all he could do was shake his head in a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not allowed to go in anymore.”

Sensing that Conrad had taken a couple steps away from him, the surgeon fired an unfair last shot. “If it were Nic in that bed, you would’ve told Kim to go to hell.”

The young man stopped dead on his tracks, only slightly incredulous at the previous statement. It was the truth, and he would concede to that. Nonetheless, he and Nic shared a more profound kind of bond, so to speak. In his conception, it made little sense to compare. Or at least, it did up to that point.

“It’s different,” Conrad eventually voiced his thoughts.

“No,” Bell took a deep long breath. Perhaps he revealed a tad too much, though in his current state of desolation, it hardly mattered. “It isn’t.”

Conrad fell silent. A few moments later and he strolled closer to the surgeon once again, taking the time to place his hand on Bell’s shoulder in a trademark comforting gesture. The pair stood there for the time being, sharing a rare, sincere moment.

\--

“Kit’s CT scans are back,” Conrad handed Bell a copy of the results.

His heart sank at the sight of several white spots sprawled over the area that corresponded to the woman’s chest. It left him speechless, as he foresaw what the younger doctors were about to tell him.

“Her lungs are compromised in about 40%,” Devon cut in, pulling the surgeon from his momentary numbness.

“Intubation?” Bell’s voice came out weaker than usual. He struggled to even pronounce a word that was trivial in his profession, for the weight it carried this time around terrified him.

“Not yet,” Conrad replied.

“We’re opting for the nasal cannula again,” the first year resident proceeded to explain. “Although it is concerning, we caught it earlier than on Nurse Hundley. With proper medication adjustments and the high oxygen flow, I believe it will work.”

Bell nodded as he absorbed the full scope of the latest diagnosis

"You should be the one to tell her," the blond doctor eventually suggested, causing Devon to express his concerns right away.

“What about Kim?”

“The hell with him,” Conrad flashed a kind smile to the surgeon, who mirrored the gesture in return.

\--

Once more, Bell found himself standing outside of her hospital room. This time, however, he was gearing up to go in for the first time since that ludicrous ban. Although it had barely been a day since he last talked to her, being that far away from the woman he cared so deeply for in this crucial moment made it seem like an eternity.

“You can’t be here,” Kit voiced from her bed as soon as she catched a glimpse of her friend sliding the door behind him.

“Who’s gonna kick me out, you?” Bell remarked humorously. The brunette’s reaction was to laugh, though the moment was cut short by a sudden coughing fit.

“Don’t think for a second that I couldn’t, even in my weakened state.”

It was his time to chuckle slightly, the realization that her sharpness had not withered away in such circumstances calmed him somehow. In a daring feat, he stepped closer to her bed. “How are you today?”

“Same old,” she shrugged. “By the way, thank you for the pastries you’ve sent. I’m sure I would have enjoyed a lot more if I could actually taste them.”

“It still beats hospital food,” he raised an eyebrow at her, cherishing the light mood that preceded the delivery of bad news. 

“It does,” her expression turned into a serious one. She could see right through him, the sorrowful hint in his blue eyes revealed far more than he supposed. “Cut the crap, what is going on?”

“Your lungs have been affected,” Bell sighed. In all his career, he must have been in a similar situation countless times. Sugarcoating was off the table, he actually frowned upon it under normal conditions. Being straight-forward was his only choice, despite the fact it hurt him. “We’re going to put you on a nasal cannula for now, change the antibiotics again and–”

“Hope for the best,” she completed in a disillusioned tone.

The fear behind her blank stare was easily detectable. It evoked another painful sting of powerlessness that reverberated throughout his figure. She wound up in a sort of wordless trance; perhaps considering the present, perhaps dreading the future. 

“On a brighter note,” he cleared his throat, capturing her attention. “I met Aisha and her mother on the way out just now.”

“Out?”

“Yeah, Nolan discharged them earlier,” the surgeon witnessed as Kit’s face slowly lit up again. “They sent their best regards and gratitude for all you’ve done.”

“We,” she amended and he conceded with a nod.

The patients in question were a single mother and her nine year old girl, both contracted the virus on a simple trip to the grocery store. Days later and the daughter, who had asthma, was checked into the ICU in a rather critical state. Although the older woman presented mild symptoms, she refused to leave her child behind. It tugged on Kit's heartstrings, and she made special arrangements to treat the duo. Once she fell sick, the case was transferred over to Bell.

He smiled at the brunette. “I also managed to score us a couple of tickets for the next fourth grade ballet recital. Aisha said she’ll do that _grand preveau-something_ you’ve apparently taught her.”

She snickered at his botched french. In response, his heart did a funny somersault, and for a second it felt like lighter times.

“That kid is going far, trust me.”

“I had no idea you knew so much about ballet,” his voice perfectly conveyed his curiosity.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve spent all of my childhood practicing,” another couple of dry coughs forced her to stop and breath in deeply before continuing. “I only dropped it to come to this country for med school.”

“So like, you could’ve become a ballerina?”

“Yeah,” she smirked proudly.

Bell’s smile only widened at the newly unearthed information. 

“You know how some patients tend to set goals for the future if they get through something?” Kit’s words made him snap out of the visions of her executing ballet moves. 

He nodded, both in agreement with her and to make sure his thoughts would vanish. Not that time for that, he reprimanded himself mentally.

“If I ever get out of here, I want to go back to dancing.”

“Never too late for a change of career,” he added in a jokingly manner.

“No, silly. I mean for fun,” she raised her hand to lightly punch his arm, like she had done one too many times in the past. The realization of the context that surrounded them at that moment caused her to halt. “It doesn’t even have to be ballet. I’ve always loved to dance.”

The surgeon was pensive for a moment or two. “Say, when you get out of here, because you will,” his chest grew tight in an anxious reflex that made him feel like a high school kid all over again. “How about I take you out dancing?”  
“You dance?” Kit sounded amazed.

“I don’t know the first thing about it,” he forced a chuckle, as he was sorely aware she had not answered. “Should be entertaining.”

“I’ll have to teach you then,” her lips curled into the brightest smile she could gather given her state.

“W-well, that’s uh. That’s great,” he scoffed at his own reaction. She had always held the power to easily render him tongue-tied.

Just as they settled on the forthcoming dancing lesson of sorts, Jessica made her way into the room. She carried a cart with an oxygen tube and the necessary equipment to insert the nasal cannula on the ailing doctor.

“Are you ready, Dr. Voss?”

Kit nodded before turning to the man by her side, a certain desperation infused in her request. “Can you stay?”

“If anyone could kick me out, it’s Jessica,” he eyed the nurse, silently pleading that she would be reasonable. After all, it was one of the motives he had scheduled her to be there right now, she understood him.

“It’ll be our secret,” the younger woman winked before spinning around to attach tubes and adjust the flow rates at the source.

Meanwhile, Kit reached out for Bell’s gloved hand from across the mattress. He held onto her dearly, as if his life depended on it, as if reassuring her that despite the barriers imposed, he would not leave her side.

And so Jessica carried on with the procedure.


	2. Chapter 2

_April, 2021._

A year had come and gone since the virus had made the world stop turning. Twelve long, eventful and exhausting months until Chastain found some sense of normalcy once again. Nurse Hundley had taken a miraculous turn for the better, and in due time she was back doing what she did best, caring for others. Kit had a similar fate, the spots on her lungs disappearing as rapidly as they had emerged. Within days she was cleared to go home, a week later and she returned to work.

However, Bell knew better than to blindly believe that this whole ordeal had not taken a toll on her. Today in particular, he had devoted extra time to keep an eye on his friend, seeing as exactly a year ago she had been checked into the hospital. Kit was unusually quiet for the duration of her shift, mostly keeping to herself, even during breaks. The fact that, throughout the day, she had not once barged into his office unannounced was more than enough to alarm him. 

By nightfall, he decided to quit on the observer role and take action. Next thing he knew, he had driven halfway across town. The ever so precise hands that could easily repair arteries, now trembled at the steering wheel as he parked the car outside her suburban home. As soon as he made it to the door, the idea of paying her an unexpected visit felt downright stupid. But in all honesty, there was no way he could lie his head on the pillow tonight and sleep while his concerns for her were so heightened.

And so, wearing his heart on his sleeve, Bell knocked on the door.

“Hey,” Kit’s expression reflected her surprise.

“Hi there,” he greeted her nervously. “You okay?”

A small nod was all he got in return.

“Good, good,” he frowned, slightly panicking as he chose his next words. “It’s just that today has marked a year…” Bell took a deep breath. “Since you were… A-and I just wanted to make sure you’re fine. Not that it’s any of my business, but… But I thought you might just not want to be alone.”

She blinked rapidly at him more times than she could count. The fact that he even remembered what today meant left her amused. Not to mention that he had driven all the way over just to check on her.

“Come in,” she gifted him with a warm smile and stepped back so he could enter her home.

\--

Kit politely declined the suggestion of grabbing dinner somewhere, instead, she opted to pour them both a glass of the finest red wine she had. It was one of those days where the perspective of leaving the house did not sound appealing at all. As thrilled as she was to be back on her feet after battling that insidious disease, this date also served as a reminder of all the suffering she both endured and witnessed firsthand in the line of duty. How can anyone ever be the same after that?

Sensing her momentary detachment from reality, Bell decided to rely on the silly plan he had concocted as an excuse to reach out to her. In a snap of fingers he went over to the car and made his way back inside the house. She did not fail to notice that he hid one of his hands behind him.

“I got a surprise for you,” he smiled foolishly, in an attempt to lighten up the rather somber mood.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, suspiciously. More than anything, she was curious in regards to whatever he was concealing. Fortunately, Bell took the cue sooner than later, only to reveal a small, round speaker. He moved to place it over the dinner table, and watched as the brunette’s eyes widened in confusion.

“Where did you get that?”

“Grayson,” his reply was followed by a nonchalant shrug. 

He pulled the cellphone out of his pocket, unlocked it and proceeded to spend a solid minute following his former assistant’s instructions to connect it with the speaker. Admittedly, he was hardly tech-savvy.

“Also, he showed me how to do this,” with a tap on the screen, a song began playing. Its uptempo beat quickly filled the room.

“What’s that all about?” Kit flashed him a puzzled glare.

“Sticking to my promise,” he frowned. “Kinda.”

Bell then placed the phone on the table too and took a step closer. He offered her his hand, in an old-fashioned gesture that she understood in a split of second. She accepted his wordless invitation, allowing him to lead her to the mostly empty space connecting the kitchen to the living room. His arm respectfully wrapped around her waist as her hand rested on his shoulder. Soon they were stepping from side to side, accompanying the rhythm of the mambo that played in the back.

“I know I told you we’d go out to dance. But you see, after botching every dance move known to man at Conrad and Nic’s wedding, I realized the world isn’t quite ready for me yet.”

In an action that betrayed his words, he spun her around. She giggled in return, inadvertently filling the man’s heart with utter joy. 

“You’ve gotten a lot better, I’d say,” she nodded at him, denoting how impressive his improvement was. “Not stepping on my toes as much.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Bell curled his lips in a confident grin.

“How many classes did you take?” Kit threw the metaphorical bucket of cold water on his cocky fascade, it was all in good fun, though.

“Two,” he replied, but her knitted brows signalled she was just not having it. “...Months.”

“Sounds more like it,” she let out an honest laughter, a first in what seemed like a long time. Even more than that, the gesture was more than plenty to set butterflies all over her dance partner’s stomach.

“Get ready for the dip,” he warned, aware that the song was about to end.

“The wha–” her concerns were cut short as Bell went for it.

He lowered her body as far as his arms allowed him, only to pull her up in a swift, slightly clumsy motion. Although Kit was caught off guard at first, the cheerful expressions stamped on her face as she was brought back up revealed her delight at the unexpected move. Out of habit more than anything, the brunette playfully punched at his arm, just as the last notes of the track played.

Soon, a new song started, much slower than the mambo they had danced. Kit did not recognize it, however, judging by the melodic piano line and the sorrowful mood, she could place the tune in the early 1960s. It surprised her that he would have something like that on his playlist, but then again, she had yet to fully unravel the mystery that was Randolph Bell.

“One more?” 

“Sure, but they didn’t teach me how to dance to Patsy Cline in class,” he ran a hand through his hair, demonstrating a sudden nervousness at her suggestion.

“It figures,” her eyes rolled in feigned annoyance. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it.”

Kit spun around and made a beeline to the kitchen table in order to retrieve his phone. She made a mental note to search that name when she had the chance, and then proceeded to restart the song.

As she approached him once again, her hand reached out to his. She pulled her friend closer, even more so than during the previous dance. Bell froze momentarily once he became painfully aware of her body pressing against his. She locked eyes with him, as if seeking reassurance to continue. He complied with a nod, and swallowed hard as she leaned just a tad closer. They were essentially cheek to cheek now.

“Just feel the music,” her slightly broken voice found its way to his ear. It was clear she had been affected by this more personal arrangement as well. “Follow your instincts, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied, marvelled at their newfound proximity.

From the second they began swaying, Bell was lost. If heaven was real, he had just found it in her arms. Holding her felt finer than anything he had dared to envision in wistful dreams before. The sweet scent of her hair invaded his nose, fogging his mind and rendering him utterly intoxicated. Her racing heart pounded against his chest, echoing his own heartbeat. Oh, how he wished he could make the world stop turning so they could be like this forever.

“That’s good,” she whispered in encouragement. 

His reply came in the form of a soft hum in approval, which was more than plenty to raise goosebumps all over her figure. The feeling of his hand on the small of her back was almost overwhelming, especially considering how his thumb absentmindedly stroked invisible circles on the area. Breathing soon became a laborious task for Kit, out of pure immersion in their intimate moment. It was curious to think only a year ago she had experienced something similar, although in extremely diverse conditions.

That train of thought was cut short when she heard some sort of mumble floating in the air. The brunette knitted her eyebrows as she tried to make sense of what the sound was. Sooner rather than later, she reckoned it was him muttering along to the lyrics of the tune playing. Her own bewilderment at the situation caused her head to turn to the side.

“Are you singing?” Kit beamed, taken aback in the most pleasant of ways.

With his eyelids shut tight, Bell offered her a sheepish grin as he got caught. Both his cheeks and the tips of his ears tinged pink in a timid reflex. The sight alone was enough to make her heart flutter with furor, there was something particularly endearing about seeing him like this, stripped from his serious surgeon demeanor. She let go of his hand, driven by a hasty urge to let her fingertips brush up the side of his neck.

Finally, he opened his eyes and flashed her a puzzled look. Words failed to leave his mouth as he acknowledged the way she gazed at him, for it was dazzling enough to make his knees weak. And although he knew what was bound to happen, he could hardly believe it as she slightly tilted her head. Kit’s face moved towards his in an achingly slow manner. She halted briefly once they were close enough to breathe the same air, only to examine his reaction. When he failed to move away, she closed the gap between them. At last, their lips met in a tender, loving kiss that reflected three years of bottled up emotions and wasted opportunities.

She pulled back eventually, only to rest her forehead against his as they continued to gently sway. A couple songs played as they remained like that, enraptured in each other and their now impeccable synchrony. None of them dared to speak, there was no need to ruin anything with contrite sentences or apologies. After all they have been through, it seemed as if the duo was ultimately on the same page.

In a rather humorous twist of fate, the streak of love songs was interrupted by an upbeat tune. Bell remorsefully disengaged from his partner in order to fix this, and made his way to the phone once again. 

“Sorry about this,” his eyes were focused on the screen as he combed through countless tracks in search of the perfect one.

Kit watched him from across the room; his face was flushed and a faint trace of panting was still detectable. Knowing she had that effect on him was exhilarating.

When he glared at her, she was moving towards him. The look in her eyes signalled she was not so keen on dancing anymore. Before he even had time to process this turn of events, she took the phone away from him, placing it back on the table. Kit smirked before she captured his lips in another kiss, this time, far deeper and steamier than the previous one.

\--

Drawing parallels was inevitable.

A year ago and Bell saw her confined to a hospital bed, fighting what turned out to be the greatest threat of modern times. A rush of fear accompanied him as he witnessed firsthand how her health slowly decayed. The uneven beeping of the machines hooked to her haunted him to this day.

Tonight, however, he watched as Kit slept on his chest. The steady rhythm in which she inhaled and exhaled was perhaps the most soothing sound he had heard to date. Frankly, he had never felt so at peace as he did now that his fingers twirled around locks of her caramel hair.

In addition to that, there was also the fact that he could not, for the life of him, wipe the smirk off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suggestions are always welcome!!

**Author's Note:**

> kind of different from what i have posted so far, so idk much what to think. reviews & suggestions are always welcome!


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